


And With Knowing Came Love

by starsandauras



Series: The World's a Beast of a Burden [11]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alphinaud is there too, Brother as Midwife, Childbirth, Consequences of Poor Decisions, Don't worry she's fine, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Gen, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Multiple Warriors of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Pregnancy, Very lightly referenced Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Will's Accent, also not enough to justify the tag, not enough to justify the tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:49:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandauras/pseuds/starsandauras
Summary: They say babies have the worst sense of timing when it comes to their arrivals. Brigid's... well, could have chosen much worse, admittedly.The Churning Mists is still a bad time though.
Series: The World's a Beast of a Burden [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1233692
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. How Sweet is the Day

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags, folks. There be **graphic depiction of childbirth** here. It will be localized to chapter two, however. Just please do what you need to take care of yourself. If you're just here for name/race/gender of the Wee Bab, skip to chapter three.
> 
> Translation notes: gastaire = impetuous, mo chroí = my heart, mo anáil = my breath 
> 
> And with that, enjoy!

_Clench_

Her back had been aching for _bells_ , now. Brigid leaned against the neck of the chocobo, breathing deeply to force the pain away, trying to ignore it. She couldn’t take the time away from everything just to complain about her near constant backache. They needed to focus on getting back to Ishgard, not on her.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand lightly touch her arm, eyes falling on a concerned looking Matsu. The Raen blinked purple on purple eyes at her, a small furrow forming in between them. “Are you well, Bri?” he asked, hand still on her arm.

She forced away the pain long enough to force a smile to her face for him. “I’m bein’ alright darlin’,” she said softly, hand reaching out to touch his arm as well. “Just the usual back pain ‘tis all. Nay anythin’ to be worryin’ ‘bout,” she promised, patting his arm.

He frowned deeper, clearly not trusting her. “You’re certain?” he asked, eyes trailing down to her full belly.

She laughed and stroked it gently, nodding weakly. “Aye, quite certain. But thank you for checkin’ on me.” She moved her hand from his arm to his hair, enjoying that while she wasn’t taller than him on the chocobo, she was at least of a height that she didn’t have to stretch and he didn’t have bend down for her to pat his head. It was clear he still didn’t believe her, but he sighed and nodded.

“Very well,” he acceded, and before he drifted back to Arthur and Araki’s side he dug his knuckles into Brigid’s back, massaging away some of the worst of the ache.

_Release_

Brigid sighed to herself, relaxing as Matsu moved away. It was too early, she decided after a moment. It was simply another round of those practice pains Llewellyn had warned her about and she remembered their mother suffering near the end of carrying Arthur and then Connor. It had to be.

Reassured that she still had at least a fortnight to go, she leaned against the chocobo’s neck, taking the chance to doze. Or at least that had been the plan, when she felt another hand on her leg. She opened one eye to glare at whoever decided to bother her again, only to be met with an answering glare from William. “’M fine,” she protested, closing her eye again.

“An’ Ah’m makin’ sure ye are,” he grumbled, patting her leg. “Nay needin’ ye in a rough spot when we’re needin’ ye tae throw some fireballs.”

She laughed again, bright despite the lingering pain in her back. William’s hand still went to her back and dug in his knuckles in the same place Matsu had, smiling at the pleased groan that came from his sister.

“‘Tis feelin’ so good,” she murmured, relaxing even more against the chocobo. “Wee bit to the right though,” she directed, and made a pleased hum as he did.

“Spendin’ half me life dealin’ wi’ yer back,” he mock grumbled, and Brigid could hear the pleased smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Least I’m nay coughin’ as much?” she offered, snuggling more into the thick wool robe she had been given prior to their trip into first the Western Highlands, and then what felt like all over creation to find an end to Nidhogg’s madness. It even had a fur lining that she suspected was chinchilla for how soft it was. William huffed and dug in harder, all but making Brigid go limp.

“Thank th’ Twelve fer small mercies,” he huffed, easing up slightly and starting to move in a circle. “Or Coun’ Edmont, ‘least.”

“Good lad,” she murmured, smiling into chocobo feathers. “’M wantin’ to doze,” she added after a short moment, relaxing even more. William laughed and pulled Brigid’s hood up over her head, making her sputter in surprise and one hand flew up to grab it instinctively.

_Clench_

She saw William’s eyebrow quirk upward and glance at her out the corner of an eye. She sighed and shook her head. “Just the practice pains,” she told him, the hand he couldn’t see clutching the fabric of her robe. It wouldn’t do to worry him, after all.

His eyebrow stayed up and he stared her down a long moment. She returned the stare, the both of them refusing to back down for several long minutes. William was the first to blink and she cheered inwardly. “Aye,” he agreed, slowly and as though it was a hard won agreement, switching to using his flat palm on her back instead of his knuckles. “If ye’re sayin’ sae then,” he grumbled, and she laughed again.

“Aye, I am sayin’ so.” She poked at his shoulder, getting an equally hard won smile from him. “And I was also sayin’ I’m wantin’ to doze. So if you’ll be lettin’ your older sister be gettin’ on with it…”

William grumbled again but finally slid his hand from her back to pat her hip instead. “Be callin’ fer me if ye’re needin’ me?” he asked, and the worry clear in his voice melted her heart. She sighed softly and leaned over to kiss his temple, letting her forehead rest against the scar barely hidden in his hairline, that she’d put there so long ago.

“‘Course I will,” she promised, and meant it completely.

_Release_

William slid his hand over to rest lightly on her back, sometimes moving gently in soothing circles. She leaned against the chocobo’s neck again, closing her eyes and allowing herself to be lulled to a light sleep.

It wasn’t quite a fitful one, but it also wasn’t a restful or restorative doze, and she distantly kept track of the time by noting each _clench_ and _release_ , trying to ignore what they were. She wasn’t stupid, as much as certain irritating dragoons tried to insist. There was only so long she could try and deny what was happening, and as the pains were _not_ eventually going away, there was only one thing it could truly be. Gods above she wished it wasn’t so, however.

Finally she groaned and shifted slightly in the saddle. “Li Li?” she mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes.

“I’m… afraid it’s me, Brigid,” came an unsure voice, and she cracked an eye open to light on Alphinaud. She sighed to herself, trying not to be upset. Someone had to keep an eye on her after all, to make sure she didn’t fall off the bird. She wondered distantly if he had any idea of what was happening to her yet. “Would you like me to fetch William for you?”

_Clench_

She shook her head, smiling softly for his benefit. “Nay, darlin’ Gastaire,” she murmured. “But if you could be tellin’ Estinien I’m needin’ a rest and then be fetchin’ Llew and F’eli for me, ‘tis a good lad.” His eyes widened slightly but he took off without a word, which Brigid was thankful for. She watched as he darted around her brothers, up to the front of the line with the grumpy dragoon. She couldn’t hear the conversation the two had, but she could see the scowl on his face. She could also see the way Llewellyn turned to look at him, his face cold and stony, a face that Brigid knew meant nothing good and said everything that was needed without words.

She laughed to herself as Estinien held up a hand, formally calling a halt. Llewellyn instantly turned to make his way to her, and F’eli promptly started scolding Estinien. She almost wished she could hear what the little miqo’te healer was saying to him, but was distracted by her brother gently placing a hand on her back. “Everything well, little flame?” he asked quietly, and she could feel his aether sinking into her, cool and comforting like mint tea.

“Pains comin’, nay goin’ ‘way,” she murmured to him, not wanting the others to hear yet. If she was still early it wouldn’t do to worry them needlessly. Especially Alphinaud, he’d been so very jumpy around her the more her belly grew.

Llewellyn nodded and moved his hand to her belly, slipping beneath the robe for better access. F’eli joined them, standing nearby for the moment.

_Release_

Llewellyn must have been able to feel the muscles relax because as she felt the pain melt away he looked up at her, eyebrow raised. “How long have you been feeling them?” he asked, and F’eli’s hand quickly joined Llewellyn’s, brow furrowed. She could feel his aether sinking into her as well, comforting as a gentle ocean’s wave.

“Several bells, nay sure ‘xactly how many,” she answered, a weak smile on her face. Llewellyn sighed, shaking his head. “Wasnae feelin’ it when we were wakin’ up?” she added, trying to make up for her lack of memory.

“While we were meeting Hraesvelgr?” F’eli asked, ears swiveling about, as though he could use them to make his diagnosis. Brigid inhaled, thinking as she exhaled.

“Wee bit after?” she said, sounding unsure. “I was bein’ more worried ‘bout poor Ysayle then.”

“Wee one’s dropped,” Llewellyn murmured to F’eli, who nodded. “Have you passed your show?” he asked Brigid, and she sighed, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.

“If I was I was missin’ it,” she replied, and she could feel the effort it took for Llewellyn to not run his hand over his face.

“It isn’t uncommon, remember,” F’eli reassured him. “Many parents miss it, especially first time ones, and we have been in a rush.”

Llewellyn’s mouth flattened into a thin line, worry creasing his forehead, but he nodded. “Aye, ‘tis true,” he grumbled. “Broken your waters?”

She shook her head, smiling weakly. “Nay, nay yet. That’s somethin’ I’m bein’ sure ‘bout, or the poor chocobo would have been sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout it.” There was a laugh from her other side, and she tilted her head enough to see William grinning next to her, though there were lines of tension around his eyes. “Oh aye, be laughin’ ‘bout it then,” she mock-grumbled.

William’s grin only grew and he shrugged sarcastically at her. “Dinnae wha’ else ye’re wantin’ me tae dae, _mo anáil_.”

_Clench_

She was about to speak when instead she hissed in a breath, shoulders tensing. “Wantin’ you to nay be a pest, _mo chroí_ ,” she finally said, sighing as her shoulders came back down. She smirked weakly up at him, and William laughed. Even if things were progressing to a worrying point, it wasn’t such a concern that they couldn’t tease each other.

Llewellyn and F’eli were quietly talking, hands still on her belly, F’eli’s other hand moving as he spoke. William reached up to take one of her own hands, smiling and rubbing his thumb over the back. Finally the healers turned to the pair. “We’ll continue on long enough to find a place to set camp,” F’eli explained as Llewellyn nodded. “It’s almost dark anyroad, and we need to examine you.” An eyebrow rose and Brigid glanced pointedly down at F’eli’s hand. F’eli laughed and lifted both, fingers wiggling and displaying well manicured claws. “Well, _Llewellyn_ will examine you then,” he conceded.

Brigid nodded, sighing as she rubbed her belly, trying to force the muscles to relax. “Aye, but dinnae take too long?” she asked, holding more tension in her jaw. Both F’eli and Llewellyn flicked eyes over her and nodded in return before F’eli made his way back to the front, Llewellyn lingering behind.

_Release_

She was too tense now to doze, knowing now that it was _very_ unlikely that they would return to Ishgard before she would be _unable_ to make the journey. She tried very hard not to think about that as they continued onward, and tried very hard not to think about the eyes that every so often drifted her way, from the feeling of Estinien’s glare to the wide, spooked eyes of Alphinaud, to the concerned glances thrown her way from her other brothers. None of them she had the energy to deal with, though she did laugh when F’eli all but growled and swiped at Estinien’s elbow, nearly catching the little exposed skin there.

Soon enough however they found a collection of ruined buildings, not enough to take shelter in, but enough to be usable as windbreaks and hide from any less than friendly wildlife. Brigid remained on the chocobo as the others swarmed about, pitching tents, collecting most of the blankets, and building a fire. Unable to dismount on her own she could only watch, smiling softly as F’eli drew Alphinaud to the side, but not so far that she couldn’t hear the muffled conversation.

“We’ll need your help, darling,” he explained gently, eyes just as gentle on Alphinaud, the young man chancing a glance at F’eli’s face every now and then. “We need a constant supply of firewood.”

“To sterilize the water, yes,” he murmured, nodding. F’eli nodded as well.

“That’s right. Go look for firewood for us, and take Estinien with you, he’ll keep you safe.” F’eli reached out to stroke Alphinaud’s head, the only person the teenager allowed to do so, and tilted his own. “She’ll be just fine,” he reassured, voice going softer. “People have been doing this since the beginning of time, darling.” Alphinaud brought a hand up and towards his mouth and F’eli gently grasped the wrist. “Alphi.”

That seemed to break Alphinaud out of whatever stupor he found himself in and he finally looked at F’eli properly, blue eyes meeting gold. “Firewood,” he said, nodding. “I can do that.”

_Clench_

F’eli smiled and released his wrist to pat the elezen’s head again. “Thank you darling. Off you go now.” Alphinaud nodded and dashed off to Estinien’s side, properly distracting the dragoon, to Brigid’s relief. She didn’t need his grumbling about, even if he wasn’t entirely wrong about the matter.

(Did he expect her to sit at home, the perfect image of a biddable pregnant noblewoman, when the fate of a city at the _least_ hung in the balance? While she was still perfectly capable of firing off fireballs and summoning blizzards from chocobo-back? No, absolutely not.)

William was by her side just as Alphinaud and Estinien left and F’eli came over as well. “Ye’re havin’ tha’ lad wrapped ‘round yer finger,” he grumbled with a bland expression.

F’eli preened slightly, a catlike grin settling on his mouth. “He listens to me,” he chirped easily. “Why shouldn’t I take advantage of it?”

“And you’re the only one nay wantin’ to be tossin’ him off a cliff,” Brigid grumbled as William helped her dismount and held her steady as she found her footing again. She heard an offended noise come from F’eli and she laughed softly. “You’re knowin’ I’m bein’ right.”

“Aye,” William gruffly agreed.

_Release_

“Such a set of violent twin siblings I have,” Llewellyn murmured, smiling fondly at them both as he came up behind them, a plate of thin toast with a smear of jelly spread on it. She felt an entirely different clench in her stomach at the scent of it, distantly wondering when she last ate.

“Love us ‘nyroad,” she teased back, still leaning against William as the three of them guided her to a tent already set up near the back of the ruins. They followed her inside and she sighed happily at the sight of the pallet of blankets and pillows. “Oh ‘tis lookin’ _so much_ better than bein’ on chocobo-back,” she sighed, letting William help her down and F’eli settled behind her, muttering something about her hair.

Llewellyn smiled and handed her the plate, stroking her head fondly. William sat down at the tent flap, arms crossed over his chest. “Here, but eat slowly.” She nodded and nibbled, eyes lighting up a little at the taste of sweet grapes on her tongue. He laughed softly and used her distraction to examine her belly, pushing open the ties of the robe to expose the wool skirt she wore under it. F’eli leaned over to press an ear against her, sensitive miqo’te ears better equipped to ferret out a heartbeat than Llewellyn’s elezen pair. “Be sure to tell me when the next wave starts,” Llewellyn murmured as he pulled out a pocket watch, and Brigid nodded.

It didn’t take long for the _clench_ to arrive, and Brigid whimpered softly, enough for Llewellyn to fix his eyes on the watch, timing it out. About halfway through she inhaled sharply, both healers looking up at her.

“Bri,” F’eli started, voice casual, “do you like rolanberries?”

William’s eyebrow rose, knowing full well the answer to that, and looked to Brigid for the expected response. She shook her head, gritting her teeth as she did. Llewellyn and F’elih shared a look in the time it took for her to respond. On the _release_ she gasped for air before giving said expected response. “Nay, ‘course nay. They’re makin’ Liam all red and splochy.”

“And itchy,” William grumbled under his breath. Llewellyn shook his head at his pocket watch and murmured something to F’eli that made his ears pin back.

“Why are you askin’ tha’ anyroad?” she continued, the flattening of her accent slipping off. “An’ choosin’ _then_ tae be daein’ it? Ye’re kennin’ th’ answer tae tha’.”

“Lean back, little flame, and open your legs,” Llewellyn said on a sigh. “I need to examine you more.” Brigid blinked, going slightly pale but did as requested, glad her skirt blocked her view. Yes her brother was a well trained and long practicing midwife, and yes she had asked him to be _her_ midwife, but the reality of it was… not something she very much wanted to focus on.

“She’s been able to talk through the waves so far,” she heard F’eli explaining to William. “But when it gets too hard, that’s a sign that she’s progressed into _active_ labor.” Out the corner of an eye she saw William go just as much if not paler than she suspected she did.

Llewellyn tapped her knees and she quickly closed them again, relaxing into the pillows. “Two and a half ilms dilated,” he reported as he dipped his hand in some water F’eli must have set aside and wiped it on a towel.

“That far?! Already?” Brigid gasped, and twisted her hand in the blankets as another _clench_ suddenly came upon her, stealing her breath and groaning. Gods why did it hurt so much suddenly?!

F’eli gave her a weak smile and patted her hand before starting to tie back her hair, pulling ribbons and pins out of a pocket. “Congratulations, Brigid,” he said with only slightly forced cheerfulness. “By morning you’ll have your child in your arms.”


	2. Little Child, Be Not Afraid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this chapter is where the **graphic depiction of childbirth** comes in! If you don't want to read the actual pushing part but are okay with the leadup, feel free to jump ship after Llewellyn tells her she can start pushing. The reveal proper of the bab is in chapter three!
> 
> Enjoy!

William sighed and settled back into his place at the tent. “An’ we dae _what_ , while we’re waitin’?” he asked them with a scowl.

“She’ll need a support person,” F’eli offered with a weak smile. “For the miqo’te that’s normally the nunh.” He tilted his head, an ear swiveling as he hummed to himself. “I can’t quite think of what elezen do.”

“The mum’s mum,” William finally said after a long moment, after waiting for Brigid to answer herself. “Or ‘er oldest daughter, if she’s nay havin’ ‘er mum or ‘ny sisters ‘round.” Llewellyn was quiet, focusing on Brigid.

F’eli blinked, golden eyes confused. “Where is the father?” he asked slowly, as though he suspected the answer and did not like it at all.

“Nay wi’ th’ mum,” William shrugged, not sugar coating it. “If thar’s bein’ younger wee ones he’s stayin’ wi’ them.” He only raised his eyebrow at F’eli’s hiss of displeasure. “Diff’rent cultures, laddie.” The miqo’te growled to himself and his tail puffed up, obvious signs of his budding anger.

“I wan’ Li Li,” Brigid finally spoke up, the wave finally _releasing_. She was looking directly at William, hoping she didn’t look as tired as she suddenly felt. “Together or nay ‘tall.”

William laughed and moved from his previous seat to next to Llewellyn, laughing more when Brigid shifted herself to settle her head on his shoulder. “Dinnae thin’ ye’re havin’ much choice oan tha’, Bi Bi. Gang tae be born wi’ or wi’ou’ me.”

She groaned, tightening her hand in his trousers, and William waited for her to catch her breath. “Aye, bu’ I’m still wantin’ ye,” she muttered, and William sighed. “Please?”

He chuckled and brought one of her hands to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “Whaur ye thinkin’ Ah’d be leavin’ ye tae thi’ wi’ jes’ Llew and F’eli?” he asked fondly, grinning at her as a tired one crossed her face. He looked up at the healers, eyebrow raised. “Wut dae Ah dae?”

F’eli chirped happily, ears perking up. “Listen to Bri, ask her what she needs, _do_ what she needs. She’s the one leading us.”

Llewellyn nodded. “And listen to F’eli and I when we tell you to do something. If we need Bri to do something and she can’t, you help her.” Brigid hummed in agreement, nodding weakly.

“Was helpin’ mum a lot wi’ Arthur an’ Connor,” she murmured, “You’re needin’ tae be stayin’ calm too, cannae be panickin’ ‘cause ‘tisnae helpin’.”

“We will ask you to leave if it turns out you aren’t helpful,” F’eli warned him, voice firm and brooking no argument. “We do not have time for that.”

“Please be stayin’ helpful,” came Brigid’s tired voice, and he laughed softly.

“Hit me if Ah’m actin’ wrong,” he only half-joked, smiling down at her. She laughed as well, only for it to be cut off by the _clenching_ of another wave. William sighed to himself and rubbed her back gently, Brigid leaning into his hand.

“How lang?” she all but demanded once the wave passed, teeth gritted.

“Another bell to two bells before you can push, based on what Llewellyn told me,” F’eli chirped, starting to go through the supplies needed for what was clearly going to be a field delivery.

Brigid grumbled to herself, a muttered “Nay tha’ lang,” under her breath, and she tugged at William’s hand. “Help me up,” she continued, and she tried not to roll her eyes as William’s went to F’eli and Llewellyn. “Ah’m wantin’ tae walk,” she nearly spat and smacked the side of his head weakly, William huffing as he swung his head at her. “Wus tellin’ ye tae be listenin’ to me,” she pouted.

“Fergive me fer wantin’ tae double check ye daein’ tha’ isnae gang tae end wi’ th’ bab droppin’ out ay ye,” he grumbled, but didn’t rub the spot she hit. Good. It wasn’t as though she actually hurt him after all, and he did ask her to.

F'eli ignored their spat. “If she wants to walk, let her walk. She needs to change positions every once and a while.”

“See?” she hissed at him, and pouted as he ignored it and instead helped her stand, holding her steady as she got her feet properly under her before they stumbled out of the tent. He held her close when they were greeted by a sudden burst of wind. She tucked herself into his coat before they started on a circuit around the camp. They paused a few times for Brigid to breathe through the _clench/release_ of the waves of pain, William waving off the looks of concern from the others.

Once they were well into the second circuit, a good half bell of walking, Brigid finally spoke again. “Li Li?” He made a grunt of acknowledgment, which she took as her cue to continue. “Goin’ need ye tae be fightin’ in me place fer th’ next wee bit.”

He chuckled. “‘Course Ah will, whaur ye doubtin’ tha’ Ah wuld?” She huffed and bumped her head against his shoulder. “Ah’ll be needin’ yer knives though.” She looked up at him, confused. “Loch Ah’d be deain’ thi’ wi’ou’ sumthin’ ay ye.”

She laughed softly, cut off by a wave of pain. He paused, waiting for her to get her breath back. “Ye’re a guid brither,” she said fondly after a few moments, nudging him to continue. He did, keeping his pace slow for her, something she was glad of. She inhaled suddenly, and William stopped. “Nay, nay ‘nother pain,” she reassured him, tugging at his arm. “Jes… Ah’m havin’ me will in me pack.”

She hadn’t wanted to say it. Hadn’t wanted to bring it up. But it was important, it needed to be said, never mind that the very idea of it turned her blood to ice and clearly did the same to William, judging from the look on his face.

“Dinnae ye be actin’ loch Ah’m bein’ dramatic,” she grumbled. “Mum was makin’ a new will e’ery time she wus gettin’ far ‘nough ‘lang, an’ ‘tis guid sense ‘sides. Count Edmont’s havin’ a copy tae. Please be makin’ sure folk are listenin’ tae it, an’ please be lookin’ ou’ fer Arthur an’ Connor ‘specially, they’ll be takin’ it th’ wors’.” As though a life without his sister wouldn’t be hard for _William_ , she knew, and knew he was thinking the same. He pulled her close in a half hug.

“‘Course,” he said thickly. “Ah’ll look after th’ wee bairn tae, if th’ da isnae bein’ ‘round.”

She laughed. “An’ if th’ da is bein’ poor Jacke, dinnae thin’ he’s bein’ quite ready fer havin’ a wee darlin’ runnin’ ‘round th’ Sisters.” She nudged her head against his shoulder again, sighing and relaxing against him. “Ah’m bein’ sae glad Ah’m havin’ ye,” she murmured.

“Ah dinnae wut Ah’d be daein’ wi’ou’ ye,” he agreed, squeezing her shoulder fondly. “Mo anáil.” My breath, as she had always been to him.

“Be daein’ right poorly, Ah’m thinkin’, mo chroí.” My heart, as he had always been to her.

They made it three more circuits around the camp before Brigid decided to shuffle back to the tent. When they returned she had to lean against William for another wave, face contorting in pain. “Hurtin’ worse,” she whimpered, and Llewellyn frowned, hands going to palpate her belly again. “Oh please dinnae ‘xamine me ‘gain,” she whined.

He shook his head before tilting it back at the nest F'eli was tidying and rearranging for her. “I’m sorry, little flame,” he apologized, and she whined wordlessly. He looked at William, a bit resigned. “Settle behind her, help her sit up,” he said, and went to wash his hands again.

“C’mon Bi Bi,” he encouraged, as he and F’eli helped her down and arranged her again. “Ah ken ‘tis nay bein’ anyone’s cuppa, but ‘tis ‘portant.”

She glared at F'eli, or more specifically his hands. “Stupid claws,” she grumbled, closing her eyes and turning her head as she opened her legs for Llewellyn’s access. “‘Tis bein’ sae…”

“Awkward?” F’eli finished for her with a weak smile. “I’m sure it’s more awkward for your brother,” he teased, poking her shoulder lightly.

“Detachment,” was all Llewellyn said before proceeding with the exam. Brigid was simply glad he was still blocked by her skirt so she couldn’t see what he was doing; feeling it was far more than enough. Llewellyn hummed and pulled back, washing his hand in the nearby basin. “Four and a half,” he announced. “Almost there.”

Brigid’s body chose that moment to send another wave through her, and she groaned and held William’s hand tightly. “Wha’ are ye meanin’ ‘almost’?” she got out several moments later, William digging his knuckles into her back. “Nay seemin’ loch ‘almost’ tae me!”

Llewellyn pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he pulled down her skirt, smiling weakly. “Perhaps not almost, then. Progressing?”

She sighed a laugh and nodded. “Progressin’, aye.” Llewellyn patted her on the head and returned to his supplies, checking them over as they waited. Only another half an ilm to go, she knew. And as another wave clenched, the pain radiating from her belly into her hips, zaps of levinbolts, it couldn’t come fast enough.

They didn’t have to wait very long.

Suddenly a massive series of waves crashed upon her, the _clench/release_ cycling so quickly she could barely tell where one began and another ended, could barely catch her breath, felt her hair and shirt sticking to her skin from the outbreak of sweat over her body. She shuddered violently, teeth chattering as if cold but she _wasn’t_ , not any more than she had been already for being in the Churning Mists. The pain was greatest in her back, and she swallowed back the urge to cry out. She could distantly hear William questioning it, as though she was hearing his words through water. His hand was still on her back and she shifted to throw it off, not wanting it, too much _too much_!

After several long minutes she managed to surface above the constant cycle, though it continued. “‘Tis this?” she asked, letting go a soft whine as F’eli draped a blanket over her shoulders and along her back.

“Transition, it’s normal,” F’eli murmured soothingly, pulling his hands away quickly. “With us again, darling?”

Brigid groaned, shuddering still under the blanket. “Needin’ to move, help me…” She needed to be on her knees, needed to press her chest to the ground, and soon enough with her choppy instructions she was there, bottom up in the air, belly resting on the ground, hands stretched out towards the pillows. The pain didn’t vanish, but oh it felt better, not nearly as much in her back anymore. William was humming lullabies to her, songs she hadn’t heard since they were both so very young, and she let the tunes carry her away, not wanting to be there anymore. Not with the pain that wracked through her body so strongly she could feel it twist, trying to flee from itself.

“‘Tis feelin’ loch a _rock_ inside me!” she moaned out, fists in the pillows.

“Also normal,” F’eli chirped, oddly cheerful given the circumstances. “It means you’ll get to meet the little one soon!”

She slitted an eye open to glare at him. “Ye’ll be findin’ ou’ if ye’re th’ da, yer meanin’.” F’eli shrugged and stood, walking toward the tent flaps.

“Or Haurchefant,” he replied easily, leaving to presumably fetch more water, and likely to inform the others that the screams were nothing to be alarmed about and make sure Alphinaud and Estinien hadn’t returned yet.

Any response Brigid might have had was swallowed up in a loud whine as another wave of pain ran over her. William ran his fingers through her hair and hummed in her ear, trying to distract her. “Push,” she whimpered, looking up to William, as though by beseeching him he could take the pain from her, could make it go faster. “Please, wantin’ tae push…”

Llewellyn, to William’s visible astonishment, shook his head. “Not yet,” he replied, with no small amount of regret. “I need to check you one more time, and F’eli has to return with the water. Breathe through it.”

She whimpered again but did as she was told, breathing in deep through her nose and then out through her mouth. A cycle of that or two later F’eli breezed in, and during another few cycles Llewellyn examined her (she barely felt it, not even realizing he’d started) and came up smiling. “You can start pushing any time,” he announced.

“Bloody finally,” William complained, voice low enough only Brigid could hear it, forcing a laugh from her even as a wave came over her.

So she pushed, focusing all her movement towards her pelvis, towards the origin of that _terrible_ pain. She faintly remembered helping their mother through this with Arthur and Connor, but she certainly didn’t remember her being in this much pain. Perhaps she had hidden it? Or she was used to it? Or perhaps it didn’t compare to her experience with Brigid and William coming at the same time? She simply remembered pushing, so she continued to do so. Not that she had much choice in the matter anymore, her body insistent on ridding itself of the burden it had carried for so many moons.

She pushed, and she kept pushing, panting when she needed the air, mewling weakly at the press of a cool cloth to the back of her neck. She could feel it, could feel the slow movement of her child making their way to the world, and it was the only thing that kept her going, kept her centered in the world. She could feel William’s hand on her arm, distantly heard Llewellyn and F’eli’s encouragements and answering questions before William could ask them, but they were soon dismissed as unimportant, unessential.

And then that movement stopped, so slow and so gradually that she didn’t realize it at first, continued to push against that immobile form inside her. She whined when she realized nothing was happening, nearly reduced to pain-filled sobs in her inability to communicate her frustration, her _worry_. Words suddenly cut through the static that had settled around her, and she whimpered when Llewellyn said “I need you to breathe through the next ones, aye?” She weakly nodded and choked back a cry as William stroked her hair.

“Bi Bi?” he asked quietly, “What’s wrong?”

“Nay movin’,” she whimpered, closing her eyes. “Feelin’ stuck.” She whined to herself and repeated another breathing cycle before speaking again. “Twelve, ‘tis _hurtin’_!”

She felt William dig his knuckles into her back again, providing desperately needed counter-pressure, and she blearily watched the healers talk quietly, F’eli’s hands moving quickly. The miqo’te had always talked with his hands, and Brigid latched on to that comforting familiarity.

A moment later the duo returned, Llewellyn smiling thinly. “We’re going to try a new position,” he said quietly. “F’eli, help me raise her. Will, I need you to come around front.” Brigid whined and let them lift her up to her knees, letting William settle himself on his knees in front of them. A quick rearrangement later Brigid found her arms draped over William’s shoulders with her weight resting against him. He had his arms locked under hers, supporting her.

“Ah, almost,” F’eli murmured, tapping one of Brigid’s legs. “Match Will,” he said softly, waiting until Brigid shuffled her leg enough to suit him. “There you go! Try pushing on the next wave.”

Brigid nodded and screwed her eyes shut, pushing and grunting deep in her chest. It ended on a gasp and her eyes snapping open, flicking back and forth between William and Llewellyn. “Movin’,” she gasped out, breathing deeply. “Bab’s movin’.” She could feel it, that slight forward motion, and she nearly wept with relief.

F’eli chirped in delight and Llewellyn’s shoulders relaxed. “F’eli, the towels and tools,” he murmured, and he was answered with another chirp as F’eli rose with a swirl of his tail. Llewellyn pressed a kiss to her temple as Brigid laughed weakly. “Push as you need to,” he encouraged her with a smile, taking up position behind her. “I’ll take care of everything else.”

She pushed again, breathing out a pleased sigh at every incremental movement she could feel, but soon enough she was clenching her fists in the back of William’s shirt and twisting the fabric, muffling pleased sighs turned to pained screams in his chest. “Burnin’! Gods ‘tis _burnin’_!”

“You’re crowning,” F’eli replied calmly, pressing a cool cloth to the back of her neck. “Breathe through it for now, until Llewellyn tells you otherwise.” She could feel it, feel it stretching and pushing at her, even as she held back from pushing herself. It felt like all the flames of Ifrit searing at her skin, followed by the salt spray of Leviathan’s attacks, finding every nerve ending in the area and coating them in pinpoint pain. She all but screamed into William again, and he held her tight against him, hand alternating between rubbing circles into her lower back and pressing down on it, sometimes one hand on each of her hips, helping her shift from side to side.

“Don’t want you to tear,” Llewellyn agreed, and both twins flinched at the thought. Brigid breathed slowly, whimpering on each inhale, breathing a prayer to Nophica on each exhale. Please let this end well. Please let her have a beautiful child, safe in an unsafe realm. Please don’t have there be a need for William to open her will. Breathing in, breathing out. A few moments later Llewellyn nodded. “Alright, a few more pushes and we’ll have your babe.”

Brigid looked up at William and laughed softly, tears running down her cheeks, unnoticed by her but not by William, who moved his hand to silently wipe them away. “Me babe,” she murmured. William could only lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head, and she found herself relaxing, just for that instant.

So she pushed, and pushed again. She seemed to not acknowledge anything that was happening around her anymore, barely noticing William resting his cheek on her head, all her focus on her child, on herself. She barely felt the pain now, either nerve endings overloaded or her brain shutting off responses to them, in an effort to protect herself, to allow her that focus.

“One more push, and the head will be out,” Llewellyn promised, and she nodded, only half-hearing his words. A sudden impulse flashed through her head, and she shakily lowered a hand, blindly fumbling between her legs, before fingers gently brushed — _oh_ , that was her little one, just barely into the world, and that was what gave her the last burst of strength she needed to _push_ , a near bestial sound coming from her throat as she felt the head spring free of her. If the others were celebrating that fact, giving her instructions she didn’t hear them, her mind floating down a river of joy, letting her body call the shots now.

What she did hear was an offended wail, and it was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.


	3. Wrap Life in the Brilliance of Death

When she thought back to that instant, later in life, it was all so dim. She could only remember the waves of pain moving through her, numbing her to most other sensations. It would be her only explanation for how she had missed some… very obvious facts.

She could remember F’eli saying she was crowning, that she only needed a few more pushes, but the rest was a fog. The next thing she had clear memory of was William slowly turning her in his arms so that her back rested against his chest.

“Congratulations, little flame,” Llewellyn whispered, holding a bundle wrapped in a towel. “You have a son.”

A son. A wee lad. Her mouth worked, throat feeling rough and sore. Llewellyn chuckled and held the bundle out. “Of course,” he replied, knowing exactly what she wanted. She felt William’s arms under her own, supporting them as the bundle was placed in her arms.

He was beautiful. Inky dark hair, pale skin with a hint of dusky pink, oh and of course her eyebrows, there was no doubt this was her son. Scales just as inky dark as his hair.

Scales.

Suddenly everything snapped into focus and it felt like an auroch had kicked her in the chest. Her son clearly favored his father, having been born a Xaela Au Ra. But Brigid could barely remember sleeping with an Au Ra, and certainly did not recall his name.

She held her child to her chest and started sobbing. She didn’t know what else to do. Her baby snuffled, and for such a quiet sound it was shockingly loud.

“Bi Bi?” she heard William ask, stroking her hair. She curled into him, holding her son tighter.

“He’s perfect,” she sobbed out. “He’s a perfect wee Xaela lad.”

“…An’ we’re gang back tae Ishgard,” he finished, shoulders falling.

“An’ he’s nay havin’ a da.” She could feel the tears still running down her face, William’s hand coming up to brush them away. “Ah… Ah wus thinkin’…”

“Tha’ ye’d ‘least ken who the da wus.” He nodded, rubbing her back. His other hand pulled the towel way from the baby’s face just enough to get a look at him. His scales trailed across his cheekbones and down his nose, and then along his jaw. They were also on the tip of his chin. His horns were tiny, and they resembled fish hooks. William leaned his head on hers, smiling weakly. “He’s havin’ yer freckles,” he murmured, a finger tapping very lightly at the light brown dots scattered under his eyes.

Brigid’s laugh was watery, but she smiled and it made William smile as well. “Aye, aye he is,” she agreed. “Twelve, look at him.” She inhaled and brought the boy up to her face, lightly brushing her cheek against his head. “E’en wi’ all th’ rest, he’s beautiful.”

William swallowed, words coming out shakily. “‘Course he is, he’s bein’ yers.”

She laughed again, dropping a light kiss on the baby’s forehead. “Supposin’ so, aye.” She trailed her fingers along his face and then down his body, examining him more. Patches of scales were scattered across his body, concentrated mostly on his joints, and his tail was spiked and whip-like. Reassured that her son had all his correct parts, she wrapped him up again, not wanting the chill of the Churning Mists to reach him. “Where are Llew an’ F’eli?” she asked, looking around as though she had only just realized they were gone.

“Tae tell th’ others,” he murmured. “Wantin’ tae leave th’ three ay us ‘lone fer a bit.”

She nodded absently, her focus again on her baby. “He’s needin’ a name,” she said quietly, and William hummed his agreement. “I… dinnae think ‘bout one,” she admitted, and William nodded. “Nay knowin’ who the da’s bein’, dinnae seem to be makin’ sense to be pickin’ names out.”

“Ye c’n be pickin’ now,” he reminded her, and she hummed softly. She was leaning against him again, and was so very tired. Which made sense, she thought distantly, that had taken most of the day…

“How long was it takin’?” she asked, suddenly curious.

William shrugged. “Four, five bells? Wus feelin’ loch years tae me.” He sighed and pressed his forehead against her temple. “Ah hate seein’ ye in sae much pain. An’ nay bein’ able tae dae anythin’ ‘bout it…”

“‘Tis sorry I am,” she murmured, the flattening out of her accent slowly beginning to reassert itself.

William huffed, and she could feel the air ruffle her hair. “Nay loch culd be helped,” he grumbled. “Jes’ hate seein’ it.”

Movement at the tent flap caught Brigid’s attention, and she smiled weakly in greeting and some relief when Sammy walked in, holding two bowls of what smelled like soup. “I brought food,” he said quietly, walking over and handing one to William. “And now that you’ve had the little one I’ll bring some extra pillows for you.” He set the other bowl down on the case of Llewellyn’s medical supplies and turned to Brigid properly, smiling as bright as the curls on his head. “May I see them?” he asked, and Brigid had to laugh fondly.

“‘Course darlin’.” She waited for Sammy to climb onto William’s leg before tilting the baby so that Sammy could see him. She watched his eyes widen in surprise and tried not to feel like crying again. “Sammy darlin’, meet your nephew.”

Sammy laughed brightly, and Brigid felt so much of her worries dissolve at it. Such a bright ball of sunshine their Sammy was, and it was at full force as Sammy traced the baby’s scales with a smile. “Hello, nephew. I’m your Uncle Sammy. You have so many people ready to meet you.” He turned that smile on Brigid and patted her arm. “I’ll be right back with pillows, promise!” She smiled and nodded at him, which he took as his permission to leave, a bounce in his step.

“‘Least me wee lad willnae be lackin’ for uncles,” she said fondly, before laughing as William held up a spoon, giving her a pointed look. “Goin’ to be feedin’ me then?” she teased, before taking the spoon into her mouth. Twelve and Hydaelyn above but this had to be the absolute best stew she had ever had, and it couldn’t have been more than a few vegetables and whatever one of the others had managed to kill earlier in the day.

“‘Til ye put th’ wee lad doon, aye.”

“Well dinnae have a cradle to be puttin’ him in. Nay even a basket,” she pointed out, and William sighed.

“Needin’ tae fix tha’,” he agreed as he continued to feed Brigid, as she held tight to her baby.

It was only after Sammy had returned with pillows and added to the nest F'eli had made that William fed himself as Brigid rested against her new backrest. Soon enough she drifted off, still holding her wee son close.

She woke to someone running their hand along her arm. “It’s me,” came the quiet voice of Llewellyn, and she opened her eyes enough to look blearily at him. He was holding a woven basket, with bits of fabric threaded into the sturdy straw. “Araki found this in his pack,” he explained, and he tilted it to show that there were blankets and furs inside. “He’s offered it for the baby.”

Brigid found it harder than she expected to settle her precious son into the basket, tiny scaled hands splaying out as he came to rest on the bedding. “Be tellin’ him thank you for me,” she mumbled, already drifting back off.

“Of course,” he assured her, dropping a kiss on her forehead, and something occurred to her, her hand weakly grasping at Llewellyn’s arm.

“Was me water ever breakin’?” she asked, and Llewellyn laughed softly, patting her hand.

“Nay,” he told her with a smile. “He was born in the caul, just like his mother.”

Brigid laughed weakly, her smile just as weak. “Jus’ like his mum,” she echoed, and she felt herself drop off again.

The next time she woke it was to hesitant cries and she pushed herself up, first from the depths of sleep and then into a more upright sitting position. “Where…”

“Right here,” chirped F’eli, holding the baby and passing him over just as Brigid held out her arms. “I’d say he’s finally hungry,” he added, watching as Brigid slowly unbuttoned her top and tugged down her breastband. “Do you think you’ll need any help?” he asked as Brigid brought the baby to nurse.

She shook her head, guiding the baby to where he needed to be. “I was helpin’ Mum sometimes, I’ll be alright.” She held back a gasp as the baby latched on, and latched on _strong_. She relaxed into the pillows as he started nursing, letting William prop her arms back up. She murmured a thank you, focus completely on her son, utterly enthralled.

F’eli nodded and stood, tail swishing as he collected the soiled towels for washing. “Lewellyn’s taking a nap, but he said that once you’ve had a decent rest and the little one has fed a couple of times we’ll send you back to Ishgard with Will.” She nodded, only half listening. “Have you chosen a name yet?” he asked casually, catching her full attention. “We can’t call him ‘the little one’ or ‘the baby’ forever,” he said with a shrug.

“…Are you bein’ upset he’s nay bein’ yours?” she asked instead of answering him, watching F’eli closely.

He shrugged again, smiling over at her. “No,” he answered, shaking his head. “It’s for the best, honestly.” Brigid felt like there was more to that, but if F’eli wasn’t going to share she wasn’t going to pry.

William shifted from his place at the tent flap, drawing Brigid’s attention again. “Ye’ll have tae think ay three,” he reminded her. “Cannae be leavin’ him ou’ ay th’ family tradition.”

She nodded, looking down at the baby, brushing at a lock of hair. She was silent several long minutes, watching and thinking. Just as his suckling slowed, she closed her eyes and tried to push back the tears prickling at the back of her eyes. “Thancred. I’m namin’ him Thancred.”

The tent fell into near silence, the only sounds being their breathing and the content sounds coming from the baby. F’eli busied himself by anxiously kneading the laundry, and William fisted his hands into his sleeves. “He’d be honored,” F’eli finally said, slow and quiet.

William huffed. “‘Tis one,” he said, clearly not wanting to linger too long on the weight slowly filling the room.

She nodded, lowering her nearly asleep son from her breast and rearranging her clothes. “Thancred William,” she continued, smiling softly as William’s jaw dropped. F’eli’s ears perked up and he started purring in delight. “Are you nay likin’ it?” she asked her twin, her smile growing slightly smug.

His jaw worked a few times, clearly trying to get his words out and failing. “Ah…” He stopped, groaned in frustration, and ran his hand over his face, trying to hide how red he was going. “Thal’s balls, Bi Bi, why’d ye gae and dae a thin’ loch tha’?” he finally asked, clearly embarrassed.

“Two of the most important lads in me life,” she replied, holding back a laugh. “How could I be doin’ anythin’ else?”

William groaned again and shook his head. “Damnit Bri,” he finally forced out, and she did laugh this time. “Nay funny. An’ nay deservin’ it either.”

She smiled and settled happily into her nest, ignoring the occasional pains that passed through her still. Well, it could only be expected. “Course you’re deservin’ it,” she replied easily. “How could you nay? Now if ‘twas Estinien or Alphinaud, you’d be havin’ an argument.” William wrinkled his nose and she laughed again.

“If ye whaur namin’ e’en a _plant_ after either ay them Ah’d be havin’ Llew checkin’ ye fer head wounds,” he grumbled. He huffed and shook his head. “An’ still jes’ two, ye’re gang need a third.”

She nodded, looking down at her little one, stroking her finger down his nose, studying his scales. “He’s needin’ a Xaela name,” she murmured. “‘Tis all I can be givin’ him.”

“Araki and Matsu made a list of names they knew,” F’eli pipped up, making his way to the tent flap. “If you want it,” he offered, tail curling in a relaxed posture. At Brigid’s absent nod he pulled a folded slip of paper out of a pocket and handed it to William. “I need to wash these, call if you need me.” With that he ducked out, leaving them alone.

William looked over the paper, sighing softly. “An’ ‘tis in th’ lad’s chocobo scratch,” he complained softly. Still, he squinted at it, trying to decipher Arthur’s atrocious handwriting, inhaling. “Batkhuyag,” he started.

Brigid thought a moment before shaking her head. “Nay.”

“Odgerel?”

“Mm.”

And so it went. Bolorerdene. Munkhjargal. Batbayar. Naranbaatar. None of them seemed to fit. Some came close, but none were quite right.

“Ah think thi’ is Matsu’s handwritin’,” William said in relief, finally able to look at the list properly. “Last name,” he warned her, and she nodded. “Batzorig.”

She paused, eyebrows furrowed in thought. It certainly _sounded_ nice… “Was he sayin’ the meanin’?” she asked, pursing her lips as she looked down at the baby, who was sleeping comfortably against her, completely unaware of the minor drama playing out around him.

“Strong an’ courageous, he’s sayin’.”

Brigid hummed softly, stroking his hair. “Thancred William Batzorig,” she murmured, half to herself. “Aye, I’m likin’ that.” She leaned down to brush her lips against his head. “Hello Thancred William Batzorig O’Donnell. I’m your mum. ‘Tis your Uncle Liam over there. And you’re havin’ many more just waitin’ to be meetin’ you soon.” She closed her eyes and tried to hold back more tears. “We’re lovin’ you so very much.”

_Clench_

She waited for the release, breathing through it.

The release never came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here he is! Finally, after introducing him in FFXIVWrite 2017 I can finally present to you all Bri's Wee Bab by name. Meaning no more dancing around names and pronouns in FFXIVWrite 2020! Thank _fuck_.
> 
> Some quick notes: To be "born in the caul" is a rare event where a bit of the amniotic sac is still stuck to the newborn's face. This is in most cases completely harmless and easily removed. In the past this was considered a sign of luck, meant the child would be possessed of psychic powers, and would have protection against drowning. See [Caul](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caul#History) on wikipedia for more. Prospective names for the Wee Bab were selected from [here](http://danielroy.tripod.com/cgi-bin/alternate/mongolia/Names.html) (and maybe from Behind The Name? It's been since November, I can't remember anymore).
> 
> And now, some thanks. First to [DT Maxwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell) for dealing with my flailing and flinging snippets at her during the weekend spree that was finally rewriting this thing. Seriously, thank you, you kept me sane that weekend. (Y'all go read her stuff, it's excellent.) Then to the wonderful folks at the [Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic) for being a soft place to fall when I was feeling down or just needing company. And of course all of _you_ for reading this incredibly self-indulgent thing of mine.


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